


Unusual Skill

by beccaj327



Series: The Villeneuve Beasts [1]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Gen, Good Person Gaston (Disney), Kinda?, Major League Baseball - Freeform, baseball!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 21:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11882958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccaj327/pseuds/beccaj327
Summary: The Villeneuve Beasts need a closing pitcher, and they need one fast. Head Coach Maurice sends his scouts out to find the best secret weapon for the team. What they come back with will surprise the team.





	Unusual Skill

**Author's Note:**

> This was a personal challenge I set for myself. And I'm rather proud of it. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> *I don't own BATB, I don't make money off this, this is a work of fiction, all that jazz. I'm just here to have fun*

Maurice glanced around the room of players, knowing that what he was about to say would anger quite a few of them. As coach, though, he needed to find (and place) the best players for the team; that included closing pitchers, which the team sorely lacked. It was their downfall, really. They could play six or seven solid innings, but their closing sucked. Their bullpen was dwindling down to practically nothing. So he had sent the scouts out looking for a pitcher they could use as a secret weapon. The scouts had not failed. But how the team would react could be a different story.

“Alright, boys. We finally got a closer!” He paused, watching the boys yell (jokingly) about how it was about damn time, before continuing. “Meet Benoit LeBeau, A.K.A., LeFou.” He motioned behind himself to the boy standing just in the doorway of the clubhouse. He was stout and didn’t look like he could throw a ball to save his life, much less hit a single. Maurice knew it looked like an April Fools Joke.

To his surprise, however, his first baseman, Gaston, stood up, extending his hand to the boy.

“Welcome to the team, LeFou!” He said, cheerfully, before the others had a chance to react. “Let’s see what you got, huh?”

Maurice let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. If Gaston accepted the boy, the rest of the team would follow (mostly) without question. Gaston was the unofficial team leader of The Villeneuve Beasts. The whole team looked to him for guidance and encouragement during the harder games. But the kid also had a violent streak that had gotten him in quite a bit of trouble in the past.

“O-okay.”

Nodding, Gaston grabbed his bat, motioning to Stanley, their catcher, “Alright, Stanley, put your nail polish down and get your glove. We’re gonna see what this kid can do.” He grinned.

Hopping up from his perch on one of the workout benches, Stanley plucked his glove up, jogging off after the new pitcher. “So whatcha got? Curve balls, breakers, fast balls…?” he asked as they headed onto the field.

The new pitcher shrugged nonchalantly as he took in the big league stadium. “Knuckleballs,” came the unexpected answer.

Stanley glanced down at his catcher's mitt, cursing. He was going to need a bigger glove. Or he was going to walk away from today with a lot of bruises.

“That’s why Maurice brought you up. Jesus… The other teams are gonna hate us!” He grinned. “This will be fun.”

Gaston stopped and turned towards the stout pitcher. “Did you say knuckleballs?” he asked in disbelief. He had been prepared for the man to say anything else. But taking a long look at the kid, it made sense. He didn’t appear athletic in the least: short, stout, awkward, basically not your usual major league player. It made sense that the boy had picked up the unusual skill.

“Well… yeah.” LeFou shrugged yet again as he took the mound. Picking up a ball he looked at his two teammates expectantly. “Ready?”

Stanley laughed. Oh this was going to be fun. Fun, but also terrifying. He noticed the rest of the team filing out onto the field as he geared up, ready to watch the new kid either succeed or fail. Tom and Dick were grinning like idiots, making Stanley believe they heard what he had been brought up for. The rest of the team looked like they didn’t know what to expect. 

Hunched down behind the plate, Stanley grinned at Gaston. “Don’t get pissed when you get hit.” Knuckleballs were dangerous, which is why most players hated them. Especially batters. Taking the spin off the ball caused it to fly in unpredictable directions and speeds, sometimes hitting the batter. Gaston had a short fuse even when balls weren’t hitting him left and right, and Stanley didn’t want to see how angry he could get if this new pitcher hit him.

“Same goes to you,” the first baseman shot back.

Signalling to LeFou that he was ready, Stanley took his stance trying to watch the ball as it flew towards home plate, but wasn’t fast enough to catch it before it bounced off his helmet. 

The next dozen or so pitches were similar, the ball going nowhere near where Stanley predicted, causing the catcher to either run or jump after it, or get hit by it. Gaston tried to swing at each one.

“You’d think you’d learn not to swing,” Stanley chuckled, checking his glove. “I mean, 9 times out of 10, it’ll be a ball.”

Gaston swung his bat around, readjusting, before taking his stance again. “The kid is good. No one will see him coming.” 

LeFou sent a glance over to the rest of the team, noticing their reactions to his pitching. Usually his talent was met with irritation and anger. Knuckleballs were unpredictable at best. Getting hit by any ball hurt, but it seemed that players got especially worked up over getting hit with a knuckleball. He couldn’t count how many times he’d had punches thrown at him for hitting a player with one of his pitches. 

However, this team looked… pleased. It was an odd feeling for LeFou. Hopefully that meant he was accepted. He really didn’t want to deal with hazing. He’d been through enough hazing in his life, he could live without one more.

Throwing one last pitch, LeFou was shocked to see it hit Gaston in the shoulder. Well shit, there goes that idea. Tensing to run, to prepare to defend himself, defend his pitching style, or for a fight, he took a step off the mound towards the guest dugout.

Laughing, Stanley shot up from behind the plate, picking the ball up. “Told you,” he taunted.

Gaston rubbed his shoulder, impressed. It was a hard thrown ball. His shoulder was going to be black and blue, and sore, for weeks after that. “Yeah, yeah. You told me. Shut up.” He moved towards the pitcher’s mound, hand extended. “You’ve got an arm on you. I like it. I think we’re gonna be just fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is part one of a series I'm planning in this universe. I don't know how many stories will be in it, but I like the whole idea of these guys being baseball players. Other stories will have other characters, some might even have ships. I hope you enjoyed this!


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